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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696227">Great. Perfect. Fine.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoisturizedShigaraki/pseuds/MoisturizedShigaraki'>MoisturizedShigaraki</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Homestuck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gamzee Centric, Gamzee and Karkat are the only two really, everybody else is just mentioned - Freeform, ooc Gamzee too, ooc Karkat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:40:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoisturizedShigaraki/pseuds/MoisturizedShigaraki</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gamzee loves his friends. </p><p>Gamzee has never been better. </p><p>Gamzee would never hurt his friends.</p><p>Gamzee is fine. Great. Perfect. Fine.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Great. Perfect. Fine.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gamzee thought that Karkat must have forgotten the 'moirail' title the pair shared. It almost broke his poor little purple thumper, but he didn't mind. Through the Faygo glossed screen, the gray 'cG' speedily typed gut-wrenching remarks. "EVERYONE IS AN IDIOT. I CAN'T HAVE A SINGLE FRIEND WITH REALISTIC CHARACTERISTICS, CAN I? SOLLUX IS UP TO HIS NOOK IN SWAYING NARCISSISM AND CONTEMPIBLE MELODRAMATIC CHIVALRY. TEREZI IS JUST AN ASSHOLE THATS NOT WILLING TO SPARE US FROM HER LUSUS-LESS AGENDA. DON'T YOU DARE EVEN FUCKING MENTION TAVROS. HE IS A CRYBABY WHO LOVES COMPLAINING ABOUT HOW CRIPPLED HE IS, HE SHOULD HAVE JUST BEEN MADE INTO GRUBSAUCE IF HE REGRETS VRISKA SO FUCKING MUCH." To anyone else, this would have been ironic, but Gamzee saw no irony. It was all great, it is always all great when you're Gamzee Makara. </p><p>     Gamzee squinted his eyes for a second, thinking about his bro, Tavros, but shook it off almost immediately. Pale feelings aside, his moirail chilled before him. He delayed his response by dipping his fingers into the aluminum pie tin next to him and clumsily shoveling the lime green sludge into his mouth. "I'm StIlL aLwAyS aS yOuR oWn BeSt FrIeNd! We CaN gEt OuR cHiLl On To WhAtEvEr ThErE iS hApPeNiNg RiGhT nOw." </p><p>     Karkat's response was immediate and snappy. Opting for a curt "YOU'RE THE WORST ONE." Gamzee didn't mind however. He never minded. He shoved more sopor slime into his mouth. He never minded. His pan pounded softly, which he took as a sign from the Gods to slow down his consumption. Slowing down sounded about right. The world around him lit up uncomfortably, except for the dull gray hue of text littering the chat log on his husktop. Life is beautiful. Everything is beautiful. Karkat's blood color, whatever it is, is motherfucking beautiful.</p><p>     Gamzee, barely coming out of his seasoned daze, decided that he must have said something out of line because Karkat's follow up was not what he would call quaint. "YOU'RE THE SHITTIEST 'BeSt FrIeNd :o)' A TROLL COULD HAVE ASKED FOR. YOU ALWAYS SPEW THAT CHAUVINISTIC NONSENSE, WHICH MAKES SENSE GIVEN YOUR BLOOD COLOR, BUT NONETHELESS IS VERY GODDAMN ANNOYING."</p><p>     Karkat liked raving about his 'awful' friends. Gamzee couldn't be less upset. He was never upset. Only happy. Only happy, with slime in his palms, in his stomach, in his brain. Gamzee, despite his body's warning signs, caked his fingertips in more of the slime next to him, causing him to forget responding to Karkat entirely. His eyes left the computer, and he found himself gazing around his room. Pins were scattered among the floor, bright greens and deep purples. The implications weren't so<br/>thrilling, but he was happy, so he would never hurt his friends.      </p><p>     Gamzee loved his friends. </p><p>     God, Gamzee loved his friends. </p><p>     He only realized he spaced out again when the Cancer's chumhandle icon lit up again, he had once again ranted on about something else, Gamzee observed. "I BET YOU'RE NOT EVEN PAYING ATTENTION RIGHT NOW BECAUSE YOU'RE SO INVESTED IN THAT TOXIC SUBSTANCE."</p><p>     Gamzee moaned, his insides churning. A small frown worked itself onto the purple blood's face. He sloppily typed out "We'Re MoIrAiLs KaRbRo :o( " He hit send, and gingerly put his thumb in the edge of his pie, then into his mouth. The colors around him began to saturate, and he swore he saw the dual-horned Gods crawling out of his juggalo posters. Another twinge of pain infiltrated his think pan. He felt blessed. Little bubbles popped on the surface of his green conglomeration of sopor. The poster-boarded Gods carefully squeezed his shoulders. A juggalo blessing. His stomach squeezed, causing Gamzee to make a strangled gagging sound. </p><p>     "AND WHAT A FINE JOB YOU'VE DONE WITH THAT, I MEAN SERIOUSLY. A FRESHLY HATCHED WRIGGLER COULD DO A BETTER JOB. I BET YOU DON'T EVEN TRY BECAUSE YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING EXCEPT THOSE PHONY GODS AND YOUR DISGUSTING CANDY RED SLUDGE. YOU'RE LIKE AN ACTUAL GRUB THAT CAN'T EVEN SIT UP ON IT'S OWN." </p><p>     Gamzee lowered the lid to his husktop and swiveled towards his pie tin, which was mostly empty. Another gag erupted from his mouth, and the Gods held him roughly. He took care of the remaining sopor with full fists and cracked open his red, incandescent, swill. He couldn't describe the taste of his beverage at the moment, all senses were lost on his tongue. He couldn't feel his mouth enough to speak of it anyway, not that he had anyone to speak to. Alternia, being such a hostile planet, and his own lusus never having been to his hive, instead opting for the dangerous sea, did not make for the best crowd to speak to. That was fine. Gamzee always reasoned that it was fine.</p><p>     He licked the tin, attempting to reach every crack and orifice in the aluminum container. He couldn't take a breath, the Gods behind him, in all of their painted-horned glory, kept him in their grasp. He prayed for any residual slime to find it's way into his mouth, but softly wept for just a moment when there was none to be found. He softy dropped to his knees, his legs unwilling to move. Gamzee's face began to purple beneath his false mask. In the sudden motion of falling to the floor, his beverage spilled, somehow finding its way splashing onto his grease-paint covered face. He hastily wiped the sticky mess away, along with his makeup, which only slightly angered him. Strangely enough, any urge to reapply it had left him, which he saw as an anomaly to his person, but he was ok. He was always ok.</p><p>     Gamzee put his forehead to the ground, wetting his hair with a mix of Faygo, paint, and whatever other grubsauce had been spilled on his carpet before. It cooled his head. He reminded himself of Equius. Equius often kept from overheating with a glass of his lusus' milk, but Gamzee didn't have that option today. He didn't have that option any day. He didn't have a lusus to be submissive to him, quelling his every demand. </p><p>     He decided to lay on the floor. His pan wasn't relenting, and his teeth felt like cotton. He could hear Karkat's messages frantically calling out to him, but right now, Gamzee forgot that Karkat was his moirail, which might have been fine. Gamzee may have been fine. </p><p>     His long, sea-dweller akin, ears filled with the incessant beep of notifications from Karkat. The juggalo Gods took turns laughing, and patting Gamzee's lurching, boney, back. His stomach turned, and he watched as a beautiful mix of green and red trickled onto the floor. Life is so beautiful, so beautiful, and Gamzee had never felt better. He felt so fine. A purple drop fell into the mix, making Gamzee reach up to his eye. A tear. He was fine. His stomach lurched again, removing any semblance of pie that had been contained in his stomach. Despite the noise, and the colors, and the pain, Gamzee dragged himself to his recuperacoon. He put his hand in, and pulled it out. Raw sopor. </p><p>     He licked up his arm, cleaning the palm of his hand before collapsing in a fit of exhaustion and relief. Gamzee smiled, he wished he had a matesprit to tell, or a moirail. His think pan throbbed, and the colors took their time dying down. Gamzee felt great. Gamzee felt perfect. Gamzee felt fine. </p><p>     Great. Perfect. Fine.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m sorry if it gets kind of OOC, I was just kind of writing a vent thing. Please let me know if you enjoyed, leave a comment and give me some feedback! It’s ok if it’s not anything positive, I want to grow as a writer.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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